Return of the Prodigal Son

“Hi, my name is Daniel Forseegan.” He showed his identification to the nurse standing at the reception desk. “My father is a resident here.” 

She gave him a quick suspicious glance as she took his identification, his Michigan Driver’s License. “Mr. Forseegan, I’ll have someone escort you to his room.” 

“How is he?” Daniel asked as she handed him his license back to him. 

“I can’t tell you that, but since this is hospice care, I’m sure you will understand.” She sighed. 

“Mr. Forseegan?” An orderly appeared at the desk.  He was dressed in a bleached white smock with a name tag that read “Brian Olmstead.” 

“Yes.” 

“I’m your escort to your father’s room.” He nodded, “When was the last time you saw him?”

Daniel bowed his head in shame, “I’d say about twenty years.” 

“Hmpt.  Well, I’d tell you he has regressed since coming to Altmont’s Hospice Care, but if it has been that long-”

“I came to offer him my apology.” Daniel replied in a hoarse whisper. 

“I get it.” He began to walk with Daniel following him in the carpeted hallway.  “He has Alzheimer’s.”

“I’ve done some reading online about it.” 

“Good, because Alzheimer’s can be difficult for some people to come to terms with.” Brian stopped at an open door.  He removed the chart from the wall file and opened it.”He’s had his morning medications.”

“Good.” Daniel was beginning to feel uneasy about his father’s current condition.   

“Hey Wally, you got a visitor.” Brain announced as he stood in the open doorway.

“Who is it?” Daniel winced as his father growled like an untamed beast. 

“He says his name is Daniel.” Brian answered, putting the file back.  

“I don’t know no one named Daniel.” He waved his hand in front of his face.

“Gotta go, sport.” Brian shrugged.

“Daniel?  Daniel who?” He was becoming agitated.

“It’s on you.” Brian smiled as he turned and briskly walked down the hall.

“Hi dad.” Daniel walked into the room.

“Who are you?” He squawked. Once the epitome of good health, Daniel saw his aged father sitting in a chair with his walker next to him.  His face was bloodless and his facial features had become even more exaggerated.  His nose was hooked like a hawk and his ears hung on the sides of his skull reminding him of an  elephant.  His bony fingers were curved like a raptor’s claw.  Daniel could not fathom how much his father had aged since he last saw him over twenty years ago.  

“It’s me dad, you son Daniel.” Daniel found his voice after the initial shock.

“There must be some mistake.  I don't have a son named Daniel.” He picked up a magazine on his portable table and opened it.

“Dad, I came to see you.” Daniel approached his father who would not look at him.  

“Well, that was swell, but I still have no idea who you are.” He said as he flipped a page in the magazine he was pretending to read. 

There was an empty chair next to the one his father was sitting in.  Daniel sat in the empty chair.

“That is my roommate, Marty’s chair.” He glanced over at Daniel who was anxious and jumpy. 

“Sorry, where is your roommate?” Daniel stood up and shifted from foot to foot.

“He’s dead.” His father said with a shrug as if Daniel was supposed to know.

“Oh sorry.” Daniel began to sit back down in the chair.

“Don’t be sorry.” His father shook his head, “He was a pain in the ass.”

“Dad, the reason I came was to apologize.” Daniel leaned back into the chair.

“Could have saved you the trouble.” He sniffed, “I don’t need your pity or your sympathy.” 

“That’s not it.” Daniel put his chin into his hand.

“C’mon, we said what we meant the last time.” He coughed, “I haven’t changed my mind since then.  Whadda want from me?” 

“I just want to settle our differences before-” He paused.

“Before I croak?” He finished Daniel’s sentence.  His face was calm as he folded his hands over the open magazine. “You may find this difficult to digest, but when I go, I will have no regrets.  When your mother passed away, my life got buried along with her.”

“I remember.” Daniel nodded.

“That was before you ran off, wasn’t it?” His father folded his gnarled hands on his lap. 

“I ran off, because we did not see things eye to eye.” Daniel turned his head.

“Oh yeah, you were still young and stupid.” He shrugged.

“I did what I felt was the right thing to do.”

“Sure, sure, I get it.” He sounded agitated as he tossed the magazine on the floor. “The door is open.  Why doncha take a hint and walk out like you did back then.” 

“I came to apologize.” Daniel was experiencing his father’s agitation. 

“Wasted your time.”  He sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. 

It was snowing in Buffalo, but it was January and it always snowed.  He was helping his mother take down the holiday decorations while his father was out in the neighborhood bar with his cronies.

“Your father has been unconsolable since he retired.” She said as Daniel put the pine tree on its side and removed the base.

“What has he done?”Daniel put the base in the box with the ornaments so it would be ready for next year.  His mother, Libby, loved the holidays because relatives and friends would come to the house for eggnog and her famous shortbread Christmas cookies.  Libby Forseegan was known for her ebullient holiday spirit, but this year her cheerfulness had been dampened by her cancer diagnosis.  Daniel recognized that was the reason for his father’s frequent absence.  

“He comes home and is always in a lousy mood.” She sighed as she taped the box of ornaments.

“I’ll put that away.” Daniel lifted the box. “Maybe we should tell him to stay home more often.” 

“Oh, I couldn’t do that.” She shook her head.  His mother was what people called a “softy,” especially when it came to Walter, Daniel’s father.  

His father had served in the army during the Vietnam War and when he drank, he would talk to the ghosts of some of his buddies.  His father received services from the VA, but the mental illness he suffered from was not recognized by any of the doctors at the VA. 

Before moving into his own place, Daniel knew his father would not lay a hand on her, because he loved her so dearly.  He knew his father would become despondent from time to time, but if left alone, he would shake it off.  It was the only solution to his mental illness. It was the only thing he could do to “get right.” He took the pills they gave him at the clinic, but the pills didn’t do a “damn thing” as he would complain after swallowing them.  

Walter’s difficulty would surface while he was on the job as an electrician.  Known as a man who was an expert when it came to wiring, his temper was another issue.  He would always have a conflict with the supervisor and end up calling his or her such unflattering colorful language.  The end result was he would be terminated and unemployment would not quite cover the mortgage on his home.  He refused to let Libby go to work.  A man did not allow his wife to work outside the home.  

“I don’t know what to do mom.” Daniel threw his hands up in frustration. 

“Neither does he.” She fought back a tear.

“Maybe he needs to seek more help.” 

“Where?” Her voice was filled with frustration. “I could find a job.  I was employed when we were dating.  Women today are working.  Why can’t I?  It would make things a lot easier.” 

“It was awful when your mother passed away.” His father was crying.

“I know dad.” Daniel put his hand on the bridge of his nose.  Nothing had changed.  Maybe he had wasted his time.  Now that his father had an advanced case of Altzheimer’s, he would not be able to make his apology count for anything.  No matter what he said, he would not be able to let his father know how sorry he was.

It was as if Daniel was the Prodigal Son, but in the biblical story, the son returned and his father rejoiced and killed the fatted calf.  Daniel doubted his father would consider killing the calf.  He just wanted to leave knowing he did the right thing.

“Hey are you guys alright?” Brian poked his head into the room.

“I got an uninvited person in my room.” His father jerked his thumb in Daniel’s direction. “Ain’t you supposed to remove uninvited bums?”

“He’s your son, Walter.” Brain smiled. 

“He ain’t no son of mine.” He pointed at Daniel as he came to his feet fighting mad.

“If you are going to throw a tantrum, I’m going to have to get a nurse to give you a sedative.” Brain came to Walter’s side, “Remember we talked about this?” 

“Yeah, yeah, but I figured you would screen out the undesirables.” Walter’s face was red with fury. 

“Easy, bud, easy.” Brian ran his hands over Walter’s back.  After several minutes, Walter calmed down and resumed his seat, “Dinner will be served in an hour.” 

“Don’t worry dad, I’ll be on my way before then.” Daniel assured him.

“He gets like this sometimes.” Brian said as an aside to Daniel as he kept his eyes fixed on Walter.  

Daniel nodded to Brain as he left the room.

Daniel sat in silence as his father refused to look at him.  It would not be the first time. His father had made it his vindictive habit wherever Daniel was concerned.

“Hello, I’m Daniel Forseegan.” He said as he entered Dr. Vargas’ office at theVA.  He had been sent by his mother to bring his father home from his appointment.  

“Are you Walter Forseegan’s son?” He looked up from the papers on his desk without moving his head.  He was a round man wearing a shirt and tie as he sat behind his desk.  His brown eyes were searing from Daniel knew it was most likely the result of an angry confrontation with his father.  Dr. Vargas left no doubt that this was exactly what had occurred, “I have him on a sedative due to his outbreak.”

“What happened?” Daniel asked.

“Have a seat.” Vargas pointed to the vacant chair next to his desk.

“Your father is paranoid and possibly has some psychosis along with it.” He slid the document toward Daniel to read.  Daniel picked it up and read it.  His father was becoming a danger to himself and those around him. Dr. Vargas watched Daniel as he read the documentation, “So, you see, I am quite concerned.  He had to be restrained so he would not attack me or my staff.”

“I had no idea.” Daniel said softly.  

“He’s been getting worse.” Dr. Vargas folded his hands on his desk, “I’ve had him as my patient for a few years.  When he first came in, he was just like a lot of the Vietnam vets I was dealing with, but over time, his behavior has become more and more violent.  If he had managed to get his hands on one of my staff, I would have institutionalized him.”

He found his father sitting in the waiting room reading a magazine.

“Are you ready, dad?” He asked.

“I need to get the heck out of here.” He stood up.  He was still very angry.  

“Dad, Dr. Vargas told me you did not behave.”

“Don’t talk to me like I am a child.” His father pointed his finger inches from Daniel’s nose. “He’s an idiot.” 

His voice was attracting attention from the staff in the area.

“Dad, calm down.” Daniel was aware of the attention his father was causing with the ruckus. 

“Don’t tell me to calm down.” He jabbed his finger at his son.  

“C’mon dad.” He reached out, but his father slapped Daniel’s hand away.

“Don’t you dare touch me!” He yelled, “I’m calling a cab.” 

Daniel watched helplessly as his father walked out of the building. 

When he pulled up in the driveway, he knew something was wrong.  When he opened the door, his father was sitting on the couch holding a loaded M1911 .45 Automatic pistol to Libby’s head.  His father was dressed in his army combat uniform that was hanging in his closet.  His face was painted like he used to paint it for night patrols. 

“Dad, what the hell?” Was all Daniel could manage.

“I am getting tired of people kicking me.” He said through gritted teeth as his mother softly sobbed to herself. 

“Mom, are you alright?” Daniel knelt in front of her.

“Of course she’s alright.  I ain’t gonna hurt her.” He snarled. 

“Then put the gun down, dad.” Daniel urged his father.

“I’m just tired.  I am so tired.” Tears began to roll across his cheeks. 

“You need to sleep, dad.” Daniel spoke slowly.

“We never slept over there.” He was in Vietnam again. His eyes were wide open. “You were killed on patrol.” 

“Dad, I’m going to radio in for help.” Daniel put his hand on his father’s knee.

“It’s too late, Eddie.  It’s too late.” He began to sob.

“Maybe we can save you.” Daniel shrugged, but anger flashed in his eyes as he put the pistol to Daniel’s head.

“Walter, no.” Libby gasped.

“I swear to God I will pull this trigger.” He gritted his teeth.

Time stopped as he held the pistol to his son’s head for what seemed to be an eternity.  He released the hammer with a click.

“You called the police on me.” His father stood menacingly over him as he pointed his finger at Daniel. Pointed his finger like it was his M1911.

“I did it because you put the gun to my head.” Daniel inhaled deeply.

“I had to, doncha see.” He collapsed in his chair.

“Hey, just checking in.” Brian entered the room again. 

“I’m afraid I have to leave.” Daniel stood up.

“You could stay for dinner.” Brian suggested.

“I’m afraid not.” Daniel shook his head, “I’m not welcome.”  

“Damn right.” His father mumbled under his breath.

“I came because I thought I could make things right.  At mom’s funeral, you told me it was my fault she was dead.” Daniel put his hands over his eyes to cover the tears.

“You ungrateful bastard.” His father snapped.  Daniel had no way of knowing these would be the last words his father would say to him.  

He walked out.

“Don’t call the police.” His mother told Daniel as he picked up the phone, “I gave him his medicine.  He will be asleep soon.” 

“Mom, I can’t live here anymore.” Daniel said as he dialed the phone.

“He will hate you.” She pleaded.

“He already hates me.” Daniel bowed his head as his mother kissed him on his cheek moist with tears. “There are some things time cannot fix, mom.” 

“You love him.  You two would go everywhere together. He looked forward to you coming over for Sunday dinner.” She stroked Daniel’s face.

“Hello, could you send someone over to take my father to the hospital.  He has threatened me with a gun…” 

The night would end with two policemen taking Walter Forseegan to the psychiatric hospital.  He would end up staying there for six months during which Libby Forseegan would pass away one morning while Daniel sat in a chair next to her bed. 

The hospital staff would escort Walter to his wife’s funeral.  He was sedated, but he did not say a single word to Daniel and refused to even look at him.  Soon after Daniel moved to California to put over three thousand miles between them.  

Brain called Daniel to let him know his father had passed away the morning after he had come as the prodigal son to offer his last apology. 

“He told me about how happy he was to see you.” Brain said.

“It sure didn’t seem like it.” Daniel was laying on the Best Western hotel bed in his room.  

“It may not have seemed that way, but I could tell by the look in his eye, your visit brought him some closure.” 

“You are such a fibber.” Daniel chuckled.

“Naw, it’s true.  His last words were, ‘You tell that boy of mine that I love him and to take care of himself.’ Honest.” Brian sounded sincere, but when Daniel hung up the phone, he wondered if Brian had told him the truth. He did not feel grief the way he did with his mother.  No, he felt relieved that his father had finally been released from his life sentence. His attempts to connect with his father had failed.

As he packed his suitcase, he decided it really didn’t matter at this point.  He had done what he came to do.  Sometimes in an effort to do what you know is the right thing, you may never know for sure if it was or not.